


Herbaceous

by notsafeforwank (comeonlight)



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Crack, Inanimate Objects, Masturbation, Other, Serah is there, but this is about a man and his garlic bread, mild vore but not actually vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeonlight/pseuds/notsafeforwank
Summary: Garlic bread is delicious.





	Herbaceous

Snow was a loyal man. He'd loved Serah for hundreds of years and that sure wasn't changing now. But, being around such a fine woman so often and not seeing any action for a couple of weeks too many did come with some...problems. Like waking up with more morning wood than any man would know what to do with and walking into the kitchen only to find a note on the counter saying, “Out for the day with the girls, watch the garlic bread. Thanks honey.” Snow scratched his head. He must've just missed her. From the looks of it, the bread had only been in the oven for a couple of minutes. Why was Serah even making garlic bread this early? More head scratching.

With nothing better to do, Snow pulled up a chair. “Alright, garlic bread. Looks like it's just you and me.” Why was he talking to garlic bread? It wasn't human or anything. Though it was...warm. And soft and fluffy. Or crispy, depending. Kind of like Serah. They were certainly both delicious. “...Jeez.” Snow picked up his phone. Maybe a chat with one of the guys would keep his mind out of the gutter and keep that second head of his from rising with the bread.

“What?” Lightning sounded tired, even though she usually got up pretty early. “Uh, hey Sis,” Snow said. “I thought this was Hope’s...oh. You're over...nevermind.”  _ Click.  _ Lightning hung up without so much as a goodbye. “Well, good for Hope I guess,” Snow muttered. Maybe Noel was available.  _ Ring...Ring…  _ “Snow. What's up?” “Hey Noel, nothing really. I was just looking for some conversation. You know…” Snow could practically hear the confused look on Noel's face. “Look, I'd love to catch up, but Yeul’s actually waiting on me. We're headed to the movies.” Of course. “Don't sweat it,” Snow said. “What are you seeing, by the way?” “She really wants to see  _ A Goofy Movie,  _ so we're gonna catch that. I'll talk to you later, Snow.”  _ Click. _

A goofy movie? That wasn't very specific. Snow eyed the garlic bread. It was looking nice and golden now, the edges starting to crispen as the heavenly scent leaked out, practically begging to feed any and all desires. “Okay, that's it,” Snow said, standing up. He put on his trusty black oven mitts and removed the pan from the heat. He turned off the oven, closed it, and then...watched.

The slices of bread were right there, so perfectly, mouth-wateringly crisp yet fluffy, so aromatic, too hot to touch and so inexplicably seductive. “You win.” Serah would always be the love of Snow’s life, but he needed relief and he needed it now. He placed his oven mitts aside and conducted his first order of business, which was to free his now-painful bulge from the confines of the briefs Serah had gifted him (or, to be more precise, forced upon him because they were seventy-five percent off). Next, well…

Snow gulped. It was just garlic bread. It's not cheating if it's an inanimate object. A hot, fluffy, crispy-edged, delicious, fuckable inanimate object. He took a look around to make sure all the blinds and curtains were shut. Okay. Here went nothing...except his own dignity.

Snow took one piece of bread into his hand, wincing at the heat. It was a bit small, though. Maybe two...and some olive oil. Snow sat and resituated himself so that his length was essentially a hot dog burning between two  _ very  _ hot pieces of bread. He grimaced but endured, and poured olive oil over his little creation, the chill from the liquid providing slight relief. He set the olive oil aside and inhaled. The garlic bread smelled so good that he had to take a moment to just  _ feel  _ it, in his soul and in his body. The dampened bread clung to him, as if to say that it needed this too. Maybe it did.

Without sparing a thought to the state of his sanity, Snow held the two slices in a tubular shape around himself and slid them up, then down. Up, then down. It didn't feel at all like Serah’s hands or any of her orifices, but whether that was necessarily a bad thing was up for debate. It was hot, oily, soft and wet with crispy crusts grinding against each other to rain crumbs of delight over his thighs. Snow’s quiet grunts of pain gradually grew into groans of pleasure, whimpers of how damn good the bread felt and smelled, how he couldn't wait to gobble it all up, how he was going to erupt-

And erupt he did. Like lava from a volcano, his seed flowed out. The warm liquid covered his hands and the bread, and dripped onto the chair. It felt so good - much better than it should have - and Snow should have felt fulfilled, but he didn't. He looked at his hands on the bread not with shame but with hunger. Without batting an eye, he shoved both pieces of the soggy, soiled bread into his mouth. He kept them there a moment, savoring the taste as more and more saliva built up. Finally, like some sort of animal, Snow swallowed the bread whole. As the two slices warmed his esophagus, a tiny wave of semen leaked out involuntarily. What a mess.

The sound of the front door opening struck Snow with a fear greater than when Fang had drunkenly made a vulgar comment about Lightning's love life at his and Serah’s wedding. That glare, though not directed at him, haunted him to this day. But now he was even more terrified, and not even his beloved wife's voice could soothe him. “Hey, Sleepyhead! I forgot my...Snow? What...did you do to my garlic bread?”


End file.
